


and sunrise washed our hate away

by LailaLiquorice



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends, Fluff, Gen, Trapped In Elevator, and jane almost breaking a door down, aragon and boleyn being the mother/daughter duo you never knew you needed, except not an elevator but a wardrobe department, featuring soft aragon and traumatised boleyn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 18:58:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19257229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LailaLiquorice/pseuds/LailaLiquorice
Summary: After an argument that crosses all boundaries, Aragon and Anne end up stuck together for a stormy night. Apologies are made, secrets are revealed, and a friendship is formed at last.





	and sunrise washed our hate away

It wasn’t often that Anne and Aragon fought anymore. They’d bicker lightly about pointless nonsense and tease each other, that much was true, but very rarely did they really fight.

But when they did, it was enough to bring the whole of London to its knees.

“What do you mean it’s my fucking fault?” shouted Anne, backing down the corridor towards their dressing room as Aragon stormed towards her.

“How in God’s name isn’t it?” Aragon snarled, “You got in my way and I tripped over you. I wouldn’t have fallen and made myself look like an idiot on stage if you’d stayed where you were supposed to be!”

Anne was oblivious to the other Queens watching the argument unfold, or Anna hovering awkwardly since they were in the doorway of their dressing room. “Shit happens! You learn to deal with it, otherwise what sort of a performer are you? You can’t go blaming everyone else for every tiny thing that goes wrong!”

Shaking her head, Aragon ploughed on as if Anne hadn’t even spoken. “But it’s not just that, is it? If you stayed in your own fucking lane for a change then we wouldn’t have half the issues that we all have!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Anne retorted.

“You’ve always got an opinion, haven’t you? Always got something to say that isn’t wanted by anyone, always sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong. You’ve just got no idea what proper manners are!”

“Well what about you?” Anne challenged, finding her feet after the shock of being turned on the minute they were backstage had faded. “Everything I do is a problem for you, you can’t just let me live my goddamned life for one day!”

Aragon huffed. “I wouldn’t need to get on your back if you’d just act like an adult for a change and not some child who hasn’t aged a day since the sixteenth century!”

“Ladies, please!” shouted Cathy, her voice loud enough that it echoed off the corridor walls and silenced them both. She sighed as she walked towards them, Jane and Kat following on behind at a distance. “It’s not important. Let’s just go home.”

Anne deflated at the weary look on Cathy’s face. “I’ll meet you at home. I still need to get changed,” she said, refusing to glance towards Aragon as she walked into the dressing room even though she knew the other woman would have to follow her in.

She vaguely heard Anna’s quiet “I’ll come with you,” before footsteps headed towards the theatre exit and left only silence.

Changing quickly into her own clothes, Anne left her headpieces and fake eyelashes abandoned on her desk and didn’t bother with the rest of her hair or makeup before bundling her costume into her arms. The door of the wardrobe department was propped open but empty, since the wardrobe team usually dealt with everything the morning of a show rather than working late, so she set about folding her costume to add it to the pile with everyone else’s. She was walking towards the door to head back to the dressing room and get her coat when suddenly there was Aragon right in front of her, and neither girl had time to react before Anne was knocked over backwards.

After a beat of silence in which the door slammed shut behind them, she twisted her face into a snarl as she stood back up. “Oh now look who’s getting in everyone’s way,” she mocked viciously, her patience already worn thin after the first round of getting berated.

“And there you go again, acting like a child,” Aragon said, marching past Anne without looking at her.

“Says she who started it in the first place!”

Aragon glanced up from where she was sorting her costume out. “I can’t imagine what sort of mother you’d have made if you can’t grow up yourself,” she commented, voice carelessly casual.

Anne recoiled as if she’d been stung, but refused to leave without getting the last word. Against her morals and her better judgement she shouted “Yeah, but I was clearly a better mother than you looking at how your daughter turned out!”

She regretted the words immediately, but there was nothing to be done as they hung heavy in the air between them. “Oh you just don’t know when to quit, do you,” Aragon hissed.

“Clearly not if I’m such a child,” Anne snapped, but there was hardly any bite to it since her anger had deserted her and left only guilt in its wake. Wanting to get out of there as soon as possible she turned towards the door and pushed roughly on the handle.

It didn’t budge.

More frustrated than anything, Anne rattled it in both directions before taking a confused step backwards when it wouldn’t move either way. Then the realisation hit her; the wardrobe door was set to lock itself after 10pm and would only open to the wardrobe staff’s key cards. All the pulling in the world wasn’t going to get them out of there.

“What is it?” Aragon’s voice sounded behind her, quiet and wary rather than furious as she’d been before.

Anne gave one last hopeless tug before her hands fell to her sides in defeat. “Door’s locked. We’re stuck in here,” she said, risking looking round to meet Aragon’s gaze.

Aragon paused for a moment then shook her head. “The front of house staff will still be here, they’ll do a backstage check before they lock up and-“

She was interrupted by the lights suddenly shutting off, plunging them both into darkness save for a stream of moonlight shining in through the one tiny window.

Anne had jumped back with a gasp when the lights went off, but recovered quickly to flick the nearest light switch to no avail. “They must have seen the others leave and thought we were with them too,” she said after a moment as the thought dawned on her, almost jumping again as her voice sounded so much louder in the dark.

“Call one of the Queens then?”

Her hand went to her back pocket at Aragon’s suggestion, but then sighed as she realised her phone wasn’t there. “Left it in the dressing room,” she said, a groan sneaking into her tone as she added “You have as well, haven’t you?”

Anne could just about make out Aragon nodding from the pale moonlight illuminating the room. “Looks like we are stuck here then,” she said quietly.

“Yeah,” Anne breathed out, glancing towards the window just as it started to rain.

* * *

 

It had been raining throughout Anne’s last night in the Tower.

The thought wouldn’t leave her mind as she sat looking at the barred window and the stormy weather outside. She’d climbed up onto the top washing machine in an attempt to put more distance between her and Aragon, who was sat on a table on the other side of the wardrobe room. Even from her high vantage point Anne was almost scared to look at her, afraid of seeing the anger that she definitely deserved to have directed at her after her final comment. But the rain and the dark had put her on edge enough that being shouted at anymore would probably make her panic, and the last person she wanted to do that in front of was Aragon.

To Anne’s surprise though, when Aragon did break the silence there was only emptiness in her voice. “I’m sorry,” she said, making Anne glance down towards her. “For blaming you. It wasn’t your fault.”

Anne only blinked at her for a moment, before clearing her throat roughly. “It was though,” she muttered, swinging her legs around to dangle over the edge of the washing machine. “It always was. I’m not surprised you blame me for everything, I deserve it really.”

“No.”

“But-“

“No,” Aragon repeated harder, and Anne’s protests fell quiet. “I’m not just talking about now. Back then too. It was never your choice to marry him, never really any of ours even though I did love him. We all did what we had to do to survive. I don’t hold that against you.”

Silence followed Aragon’s serious words, with Anne shocked at the older queen’s confession. But then she shocked herself just as much by saying “You know the whole ‘I wore yellow to your funeral’ thing? It wasn’t meant to be nasty. I knew what the colour would have meant to you, I wanted to say sorry properly. I just… I’m just not good with words and stuff sometimes.”

Aragon nodded, the beginning of a smile at the corner of her mouth. “I knew,” she said.

Anne’s mouth fell open. “How? No-one else does. They all think I’m a thoughtless twit.”

“When we were reincarnated and someone told me, I couldn’t understand why they said it as if it would make me hate you. I was touched by the gesture. I only play into it for the good of the show. I’ve always known what you really meant.”

Anne watched her through wide eyes for a moment, letting out a quiet “Oh,” when she finished.

A quiet laugh came from Aragon. “You’re more thoughtful than you think you are, Boleyn. Than you assume everyone else thinks too.”

Anne gave her a half-hearted smile, but in truth she was touched by how Aragon had bothered to look to Anne’s real self when she owed Anne nothing at all. “Thanks. I mean that,” she said, hoping Aragon would understand how much she truly did.

When quiet fell between them it was comfortable, the frosty edge having disappeared in the wake of their hesitant confessions. But Anne could easily sense how uncomfortable Aragon was when she spoke again. “I don’t blame you for things because I think they’re your fault. It’s so no-one can think they’re my fault.”

“What do you mean?” Anne asked quietly. She didn’t know why Aragon was opening up to her but she wanted to be there for her now that she was.

Aragon paused for a long moment, moonlight heightening the shadows in her expression. “When he annulled our marriage I asked myself what I could have done wrong. Why I hadn’t been good enough. It was easy to blame you, it meant that I stopped tearing apart every decision I’d ever made. And it’s still easier now.” She hesitated, drawing in a shaky breath before continuing. “But that doesn’t make it right. You don’t deserve to be a scapegoat just so I can stop fearing that one mistake from me will end in you all asking me to go.”

Anne could only stare at her when she trailed off, before shaking her head. “We’d never throw you out no matter what you did,” she said, leaning over in an attempt to catch Aragon’s eye. “Look, you’re one of us. We’re not gonna abandon you ever.”

“Thank you,” mumbled Aragon, her voice almost inaudible yet still so fragile.

Anne smiled, then dropped her head to run a hand through her hair. “While we’re here,” she started uncertainly. “I only act stupid because it feels safe. It means people don’t get to know me properly. No-one can hurt me if they don’t know how.”

“I know how that feels.”

She huffed with laughter at Aragon’s muttered comment. “Yeah, think we all do really,” she said, looking up to give her a wry grin.

The sudden crack of thunder startled them both, Anne jumping so hard that she almost slipped off the washing machine. A sharp stab of pain in her neck had her hunching forwards, hands around her scar as she squeezed her eyes shut and begged for it to go away.

“Anne, are you alright?”

Anne hummed in affirmation as she waited for the pain to subside, sitting up again slowly as it began to dissipate a little. “Yeah ‘m fine. Just hurts sometimes when I think about it too much,” she said, opening her eyes to see a worried Aragon standing a few feet away and looking up at her. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

Aragon watched Anne carefully, noting how much she flinched when lightning illuminated the room for a split second. “I’ll believe that when pigs fly,” she said, her maternal instincts kicking in when she saw the younger girl in pain. “Come on down before it gets worse.”

Nodding silently, Anne took Aragon’s outstretched hand as she jumped from the washing machine to the table it sat on then down to the floor. Once standing she looked over at Aragon like a scared child, her shoulders hunched and head low making her look terribly small. Another roll of thunder had her turning away from the window, hands over her ears and breathing hard through her nose in what looked like an attempt to calm herself.

“Let’s sit down,” Aragon said, placing a hand on Anne’s shoulder to gauge her reaction before gently pushing her down to sit on the floor. Aragon sat down next to her with her back leaning against the cupboard, closer to the window so she could do her best to shield Anne from the thunderstorm. When Anne touched her neck again Aragon asked “Does it happen often?”

Anne shrugged. “I have nightmares sometimes and it’s bad when I wake up. Last time was a couple of weeks ago, Cathy helped me through it though,” she said dully, shame in every line of her expression as she refused to look at Aragon.

“That’s good,” Aragon nodded. Before she could think twice she reached over to tilt Anne’s head up with a finger under her chin, careful not to go anywhere near her neck. “Listen. It’s not your fault what happened. You can’t help how you feel so don’t feel ashamed by it.”

There were tears in Anne’s eyes when she nodded, before moving to lean her head on Aragon’s shoulder. Aragon hardly hesitated before she wrapped an arm around Anne’s shoulders, letting her rest against her comfortably. The thunder continued and Anne shuddered every time it crashed overhead, but Aragon just stayed firm beside her throughout it all.

* * *

 

The sound of several people running through the building roused Aragon, realising she’d fallen asleep and it was now morning when she noticed the sunlight streaming through the tiny window. Upon hearing a soft snore she looked down at Boleyn still asleep curled into her side, looking younger and more peaceful than Aragon her perhaps ever seen her. She smiled fondly down at her for a moment, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear just before the door was thrown open with a deafening crash.

Jane was standing in the doorway, brandishing one of the wardrobe staff’s key cards and looking frantically around the room until her eyes landed on Aragon and Anne. “Oh thank God,” she sighed, rushing in followed by the rest of the queens. “I thought you two would have killed each other!”

“Hmm?” Anne yawned, lifting her head from Aragon’s shoulder to look blearily up at Jane. “Oh hey everyone. Nice of you to join us at last,” she quipped, grinning brightly at them.

“We’ve been waiting outside for the last hour for someone to get here with a key,” Cathy explained, walking past Jane to smile amusedly down at Anne.

Anna gave a pointed hum. “I had to get up early to come join the rescue effort,” she huffed, but there was no bite to her voice and a grin on her face. “How’d you two even end up stuck in here anyway?”

“The door slammed shut while we were both in here and locked us in,” Aragon explained, dropping the arm from around Anne’s shoulders. What she didn’t notice was that Kat had pulled her phone out to snap a photo of the two of them before she did so.

“Well I’m just glad you’re both alright,” Jane said, offering a hand to help pull Anne to her feet. She paused when Anne’s knees threatened to buckle for a second, muttering something about pins and needles, before asking them both “What even happened between you two?”

Anne shrugged, reaching out her hand to help Aragon stand. “Oh, you know. Talked a bit then just fell asleep really,” she said, feigning being casual for the sake of both their reputations.

Aragon willingly accepted the help, her own legs cramping after spending so long sat in the same position, then turned to smile knowingly at Anne. “Yeah, pretty much. Don’t even know what you mean Jane.”

They both just grinned at each other in their refusal to elaborate, leaving everyone else in the dark as to what had actually been said between them that night. But in the weeks that followed, Anne made an effort to tone down her façade in the wake of her conversations with both Aragon and Cathy, and Aragon let herself relax a little more around the other queens in the knowledge that she had at least one person who would fight her corner if it came to it. Anne knew she had someone else she could trust for maternal advice and Aragon felt as though she’d found someone to somewhat fill the space that losing Mary had left. It was a truce that the others didn’t quite understand but were more than glad of nonetheless.

But they never mentioned the truth behind wearing yellow to a funeral. Some secrets were better kept to themselves.

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by the conversation on tumblr at the moment about Aragon needing better representation in fic as a more three-dimensional character, and a suggestion from a friend that Anne and Aragon need a redeption arc. Well I present an entire redeption arc in almost 3k words, featuring working through the trauma that their tudor lives left them all with. Also I support Jane almost breaking down a door to rescue her friends.
> 
> This makes a couple of references to 'our lungs are full', and in terms of chronology it probably takes place between 'our lungs are full' and 'one more chance'.
> 
> I'm lailaliquorice on tumblr :)


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